Tickles
by Plantress
Summary: Hawke discovers Anders is ticklish. She takes advantage of it. Pure fluff. (FHawke/Anders)


Verity could tell when Anders came home. There was the slam of a door that echoed far though the house, followed by the bark of a very happy mabari. If that hadn't convinced her, then the sound of the mage snapping 'That's enough already!' at the hound would have been all the confirmation she needed.

"He's just saying how much he loves you," she called from her desk in the library. Whatever Anders said in reply to it was too muffled for her to make out, and she realized he was already heading up the stairs. She hesitated for a moment, torn between the letter she was writing to Carver, and the childish need to run out and throw her arms around her lover. The healer had been down in his clinic since very, very early this morning, almost before she had even gotten up. Given how late it was already, she had already been resigned to that fact that this was going to be one of those days where he exhausted himself working and chose to sleep down in Darktown rather than making the trek up to her mansion. That he had, in fact, come back was enough to makes something warm settle in her stomach.

Maker, even months after they'd become lovers she still couldn't get enough of him. _Although that's probably a very good thing, _she thought, trying to work on the letter again although the thought of Anders, up in their room, was wreaking havoc on the carefully constructed focus she had spent years honing. She half expected him to come down to find her once he'd gotten cleaned up, but as the minuets ticked by with no sign of that happening she gave up even the pretense of writing. The letter was shoved under a stack of paper to finish tomorrow, and she headed up stairs. Not _running _precisely but certainly moving fast enough that Bodahn smiled when he saw her. Thankfully he was wise enough to hold his tongue.

She found her fellow mage laying face down on top of the covers on his side of the bed. He'd remembered to kick his shoes off (although one was dangling forlornly from the end of his toes) but was still dressed. Well, mostly dressed. There was no sign of his coat anywhere. Seeing him without feathers was unsual.

"So," she drawled as she walked across the room, reaching out to push the boot pull off his foot, where it joined it's mate on the floor with a faint thud, "did someone finally notice what a crime against fashion your coat was and burn it, or is there some other world ending reason you're without it?"

The mage lifted his head off the pillow and turned to look at her. "I wish," he said, "that you would lay off the coat once in a while." But he gave her a smile all the same. It was a wane, exhausted smile but it was an improvement over the pinched forced things that didn't reach his eyes.

"Not until you agree to let me get you a new one," Verity took a seat next to him on the edge of the bed. "and I noticed that you still didn't give me an answer. You're so attached to that old thing that you have to be _pried _out of it. I can't imagine you leaving it behind by choice."

"And here I thought you _liked _the prying me out of it part," Anders drawled before seeing her raised eyebrow and sighing. "I got a bit of blood on it, all right? Well, maybe more than a bit. Since you seem to dislike me dripping blood on the floors for some _odd _reason," he laid his head down on crossed arms, "I tried to clean most of it out. Only I must have missed a spot because Orana stopped me and became most insistent that she take care of it." The mage sighed. "So, there you have it. The devastatingly important story of why I am not wearing my coat."

Although she couldn't help but feel a trifle jealous over another woman, even Orana, tugging Anders clothes off, Verity knew very well how _insistent _her elven servant could be. "She does that to me too, if I come home with bits of bandit still splattered all over me. For some reason she seems to have a bit of obsession about it," she shook her head a little "She also happens to be very, very good at getting blood stains out of things. I'm not sure I want to think too hard on _where _she got that particular talent, but at least you can rest assured that your feather monstrosity is in good hands."

"It is not a monstrosity!" Anders protested, but looked thoughtful. "And she was a slave to a blood mage so it stands to reason th…"

"I said I've tried hard not to think about it," she said, quickly cutting him off. There were things that she hadn't asked Orana about since she'd brought the elf into her home, things in the past that she wasn't sure how to deal with if she knew exactly what Orana had been though. Maker, she could barely deal with Fenris some days,.

Something of what she was feeling must have shown in her expression because Anders levered himself up a little. " Sorry," was the quiet word as he reached to cover the hand she had resting on the bed nearest him.

She just shook her head slightly. It wasn't as if they hadn't talked about worse things before. "So," she said, still determined to change the subject despite that. Blood mages were all too common in this damn city and she didn't want to think of them when she was trying to relax at home. "Since you don't seem to be writhing in agony I assume all that blood you were dealing with came from one of your patients?" He nodded slightly and turned on his side a bit, but she raised her hand to cut him off when he began talking. "Only if it's a story that does not involve vomit, urine, or anything of that nature. I fully support the work you do darling, but I don't need to hear everything."

Anders propped his head up on a hand, grinning at her as she dropped her hands back into her lap. "But you're all right with hearing about bloody wounds and other things apparently? I'm not sure if I should be worried or not."

"I just happen to be used to blood," she said in mock outrage, mimicking the one of one of the more annoying nobles she had to deal with recently. "And no, that does not mean that I'm a blood mage."

That brought about a chuckle from the healer. "Don't let the Knight-Commander catch you saying that. I don't think she would know a joke if it stabbed her." Then he shrugged a little, "and don't worry. This time, most of the blood came from a man I _know _happens to be a pickpocket even if he was trying to hide it, and I'm fairly sure most of his wounds came from trying to escape the guards." He held out a hand with one finger raised. "So do _not _tell Aveline about it. I don't want to give her an excuse for a raid on the clinic."

Hawke's first instinct was to deny that Aveline would ever be heartless enough to drive out the only healer running a _free _clinic in the worst part of the city. Then she remembered how extremely…focused her friend could be when it came to her duty. If Aveline had solid _proof _that Anders was treating criminals she would feel she needed to go down and interrogate him about it, which wouldn't exactly make him popular with the neighbors. "Don't worry," she said instead, "she won't ever hear it from me." Anders gave a nod, and rolled over on his back, an arm flung across his eyes.

"I do appreciate it."

"Although," Hawke said thoughtfully, "I'm wondering how badly the guards managed to rough him up if he was bleeding _that _much."

"I didn't say it was that much," Anders lifted his arm from his eyes for a moment to give her a look. "I got dragged out of the clinic on an emergency call right after I finished with him. And I had already been working most of the day before that, so forgive me if I was already looking a bit less than my best."

"I didn't know you did 'emergency calls'," she said giving him a curious look. At the raised eyebrow he gave her. "Well aside from the ones here. Or to the Hanged Man. Or people you know personally. I thought you tried to get your patients to come to."

"I have no desire to be dragged around Lowtown for every little cut," the mage shot back. "it wouldn't do any of my patients any good if they had to come find me in order to get treated. That doesn't mean I won't leave for special cases. And before you ask," he cut her off with a knowing look. "I was delivering a baby. Young mother, labor started early and things were not going well." He said the last with a slight huff. She recognized _that _from the times he'd caught her trying to hide an injury or downplaying how bad it was. Apparently _someone _had annoyed him, although she couldn't say what it might have been.

Still, the fact that it had been bad enough to drag him _out _of the clinic was a little worrying to her. She might not _know _the young woman he had gone to help, but she was something of a healer herself and knew the problems that could have driven someone to run for the healer. It wasn't a pleasant though "The mother, is she…?"

She hadn't expected him to _smile, _and it was a real smile. Not something tinted but Justice or Vengeance or grief or any of the other hundred emotions that touched him even when he was trying to relax. This was something purer. "She's fine. The baby too. A little girl. Very little girl really. Maker only knows how I managed to pull that off, but I did it."

Now Hawke found herself smiling, with something warm curling in her chest. She had always liked watching Anders when he was playing Healer. There was just something softer about him when he was dealing with most of the refugees down in his clinic. He was doing good down there, and she always felt a certain pride in him for that. Right now, that pride had turned into that aching affection she held over him. He had helped bring a life into the world, and with everything else that was going on that was worth celebrating.

"Of course you did," she said casually as she swung her legs fully onto the bed and turned to curl around him, half laying on his chest. "You're the best healer , she said, keeping her voice light as if she were teasing. There was a love-sick part of her that did absolutely mean it though. He was one of the best spirit healers she had ever seen and she wasn't going to argue with herself over whether she had a bias when it came to him.

"Sweetheart," he drawled, smirking a bit, "you keep saying that and I'm going to get a swelled head."

"You mean you don't already?"

He chuckled a little, but she cut off whatever reply he had been going to make when she pressed her lips against his. A pleased groan escaped her as one of his hands came up to curl around the back of her neck. They deepened the kiss, his lips parting for her, and for a while she just enjoyed how close they were as heat flooded through her body.

Then Anders broke the kiss and rested his forehead against hers with a resigned sigh. She knew what he was going to say before he spoke. "Sorry love. I want to do all sorts of nasty things with you, but between working almost nonstop at the clinic and the emergency.."

"You're exhausted," she sighed herself even though part of her wanted to scream with. This wasn't the first time something like this had happened. Anders, she had discovered, made a habit of driving himself into the ground at his clinic if he got caught up in something. Whether this was because of Justice's influence or just his own personal demons she wasn't sure, and honestly didn't care. She had known what he was like for _years _before he'd gotten up the courage to respond to her flirtations. Getting him to change just because _she _wanted it would be selfish, and she wasn't going to push that on him.

It was just damn frustrating sometimes and did nothing to get rid of the _want _in her blood.

She must have frowned because Anders moves his hand to cup her cheek. "Sorry," he repeated in that guilty tone she knew all to well.

"Stop that," she said, reaching up to thump his chest lightly. "You don't need to apologize. I told you a long time ago, I like having you around for more than just sex." She couldn't help but smile a little. "Not that the sex isn't _very _good, mind you."

"Just _very _good?" Anders wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, and Hawke couldn't help chuckling. 

"Finishing for compliments is beneath you," she retorted as she slapped him on the chest once more before sitting up with a sigh.

"No it's not. I like fishing for compliments," the healer said, watching her. "And I will make this up to you." He sat up so he could brush his knuckles across her cheek. "I promise."

"You don't have too," she said immediately as she watched him sink back down onto the pillow again. "But if you really want, I wouldn't mind one of those massages of yours later. Those feel amazing." She grinned a little at him, and he answered with a slightly-wicked one of his own. Hawke could guess what he was thinking which only made her grin wide. She hadn't been lying about how good he was at massage. That it just happened to lead to far more _intimate _things was just a nice little bonus. Really.

"Oh, I think I can arrange that," Anders all but purred then shook his head and closed his eyes again. "You are a cruel woman you know, tempting an exhausted mage with sore feet."

"Sore feet?" she said, trying to hide the pang she had at the simple statement. She shouldn't have been teasing him, not when he was this exhausted…and he really did look tired. The dark circles under his eyes were much more pronounced than usual, he looked pale, and there was that sort of drained look he only got when he had pushed himself to the brink magically. Damn, she was a selfish _idiot _sometimes. She should have looked at him first instead of letting her own disappointment make her _tease. _

"Yes, sore feet," he said, answering the question she'd almost forgotten she asked. "It does tend to happen when no one gives a moment's peace."

"Please tell me you at least ate something," another, very alarming, aspect to the way he pushed himself was that he would forget to eat sometimes if he wasn't reminded. That scared her, he was already too skinny as it was and couldn't really afford to skip meals. "I can have Orana make up something for you if you want."

"I'm fine. I have food stored at the clinic," he waved a hand as if he could brush the concern away. She knew better than to push him, even though he still hadn't said he'd _eaten _any of it. The last thing she wanted was for him to head back _down _to the clinic. They'd fought about it before, and tonight she didn't feel like it would be right to add that stress to everything else.

That didn't mean she wasn't worried, and she wished there was something she could do. He had been working hard down there. There had to be…..suddenly an idea struck her and a slow smile spread across her face as she realized something.

"Give me a second," she said, patting his legs as she got off the bed. Anders made a questioning noise as she left the room, and then opened his eyes to look at her curiously when she returned with a damp rag. She gave him what she hoped was an encouraging smile before turning to sit on the edge of his bed near his feet.

"Do I want to know what you're up to?"

Her neck pickled and she knew he was staring at her. "You said your feet hurt, didn't you?" she said casually. "I want to help _you _relax for once, after all you've done today. Is that really so hard?" She turned to look at him over her shoulder and found him staring at her with a look that all but took her breath away it was so tender. Like she was the only thing in the universe that existed for him in that moment. It was gone in an instant but it was enough to shake her. She turned back to her appointed task, heart in her throat. It always got to her when he gave her that look. Why he was giving her that look now, she wasn't sure and didn't want to dwell on it.

At least dirty socks were a good distraction from the way her chest ached. She peeled them off and wrinkled her nose as the much-repaired things dropped to the floor. _Maker. _ She was going to have to convince him to let her buy him knew under things at least. Even if he was adamant about keeping his fraying coat, there was no need to stay just as shabby where most people couldn't even _see. _

Anders yelped when she first touched the damp rag to his skin, and tried to jerk his foot out her grasp. "What are you doing?"

She greeted that with a sigh and a roll of the eyes she knew he couldn't see. "As much as I love _you_, I do not bear any sort of affection toward Darktown funk." She said the last as she started to wipe away the dirt that had some how ended up on his feet. He let out a high-pitched _noise _and tried to jerk his feet away again. "Oh, come on, you can't be that much of a baby!"

Hawke hadn't ever heard Anders make that sort of nose either. That wasn't his 'I'm aroused and trying not to show it' noise, or even his 'leave me alone' noise. Instead it sounded almost like….

A slow smile spread across her face. She curled her fingers and ran her nails over the soul of his foot very deliberately. This time there was no mistaking the sound of suppressed laughter. She glanced behind her, and found Anders looking back at her with wide eyes.

"So you're _ticklish _are you?" she drawled, giggling a little herself. "Somehow that doesn't really fit with that rebel mage persona you seem to love." Before he could think of a smart retort to that, she started tickling him in earnest. It was childish of her, she knew that, and downright unfair to him considering now tried he was, but the sound of his laughter was worth it. He rarely ever laughed, especially like this, and she cherished the sound.

Still after a few moments of that, he managed to gasp out. "Andraste's ass, Ver, lay off!"

"I'm not sure I like you talking about another woman's ass in my bed," she said teasingly, but stopped and straightened up. Before she could turn around, hands grabbed her and she found herself pulled back against Anders' chest.

"Maker's breath," he said, sounding winded. "Are you trying to kill me, woman?"

"If I was, you would know it," she turned a little, trying to catch a glimpse of his face. He didn't look annoyed, and his eyes were shinning with something that looked a bit like amusement. Well, good, at least he wasn't mad.

Any other thoughts were driven out of her mind when one of his clever hands found their way under her shirt to the spot near her ribs that he'd discovered that first night they'd been together. He hadn't taken advantage of that ticklish spot since then, but now he seemed to be determined to make up for that. She burst out laughing, tried to get away, but he had one arm looped around her shoulders keeping her back against him and could feel him chuckling against her hair.

"Anders!" she managed to find enough breath to shriek. "What are you.."

"Vengeance," he whispered with enough mock-drama to make her laugh harder, and gasp for breath. That must have worried him because he loosened his hold on her. It wasn't much, but enough room to let her wiggle out of his grasp. Her feet found the floor and she started to dance away from the bed. Anders growled something that might have been a threat, before he lunged after her. That was when everything went wrong. Either she was farther away than he had though or he was nearer then end or some other gross miscalculation because she felt him touch her, then his weight was bearing her down. She impacted the floor hard enough to drive the breath from her.

When she could actually focus again, she found Anders, laying half off the bed, with his head almost on her waist and his feet still up in the air. She was staring, trying to come up with something to say when he looked up at her, cheeks bright red and cleared his throat. "Let's pretend this didn't happen, shall we?"

The tone of voice, and his position, and the look on his face – almost like an offended cat – made her lips twitch and then she collapsed all the way to the floor in laughter at the absurdity of it.

"I don't think it's that funny," Anders grumbled as he pulled himself all the way off the bed to end up sitting on the floor in front of her. Unfortunately his words just seemed hilarious, and she couldn't stop. He shook his head at her, but his lips curved into a smile of his own, and then he joined in her laugher.

By the time they'd gotten themselves under control again, he was stilling with his back against the bed, legs crossed with her sitting sideways on his lap, an arm around his neck and her head resting against his shoulder

"Sorry," Hawke muttered once she could speak again, and nuzzled his neck. The harsh rasp of his stubble against her skin made her shiver a little. "I should have let you rest."

"It's all right," Anders said back, looping his arms around her. "I haven't laughed like that in…" there was a lengthy paused, "in a long time." He finished eventually. "And it was nice to hear you laugh too. It's a beautiful sound."

She blushed slightly, as Anders probably knew she would, and kissed his cheek. He chuckled, then yawned slightly. "You should get to bed," Hawke took her head off his shoulder to look at him worriedly. "And maybe sleep in tomorrow. I'm not going anywhere, and I think it would be good for you." They'd had late mornings in bed plenty of times since he moved in, but most of those didn't involve much sleeping.

He was shaking his head before she even finished speaking. "No," he said firmly. "As nice as that sounds love, the clinic has been overflowing lately. I wouldn't be able to enjoy laying in bed knowing people could be suffering."

"I thought as much," Hawke sighed and laid her head back on his shoulder. "In that case, let me help you."

"…Help me?"

"In the clinic." She could feel Anders turn to look at her and she pulled back a little so his surprised eyes were visible. "I might not be as much of an expert healer as you are, but I do have some experience. I could help, take some of the pressure off you so you aren't being crushed so much."

"You really want to?" He sounded bemused by this, but not ungrateful. "It's not exactly a glamorous job, or an easy one."

She couldn't help snorting. "And running errands for half of Kirkwall is?" she asked. "Nothing I do is easy, and at least helping you will be more rewarding than most of what I have to deal with. Down there you're doing _good, _Anders. You push yourself until there's nothing left helping the people that come into your clinic, but you're making a difference down there." She didn't mention that it would let her be near him more. She wanted to spend more time with him, offer support where she could. She just couldn't phrase it like that, not to him. "Besides, I'm Ferelden too, remember?" She said instead. "It's about time I did something for them."

Arms tightened around her. "Having someone else there once in a while would be nice," he admitted quietly, "and I'll admit the thought of having you with me is a pleasant one. I just worry that someone will notice you there. The templars have been raiding Darktown more than usual, remember? If they catch you while you're helping an known apostate…"

"They aren't going to catch me anymore than I'll let them catch you!" She protested, sitting up and laying a hand on his cheek. His stubble scratched against her palm. "We'll be careful, I promise. I told you that I'm not going anywhere, and I meant that."

He nodded, and just crushed her too him for a moment but if he had planned on saying anything, it was cut off by a massive yawn. Verity found herself yawning too, before she could help it.

"Let's get to bed and talk about this more in the morning?" she suggested. "It's late, you're too exhausted to think straight, and I'm tired. I didn't mean to keep you up like this." And she really hadn't. Her plan to get him to _relax _seemed to have imploded on itself again.

But there was no sign he blamed her at all. "Sleep does sound good," he agreed as she climbed off his lap and offered a hand to help him. He actually seemed to need it too, which worried her slightly. He fell straight back into the bed, not even bothering to take off the rest of his clothes. Verity looked at him in concern as he wrapped the blanket around himself, then changed into her sleeping clothes. She thought Anders was asleep by the time she crawled under the covers herself, but he stirred sleepily and pulled her into his arms.

"Night, love," he muttered sounding as he was barely awake.

Hawke couldn't help but smile a little. She kissed his forehead. "Goodnight." Anders was asleep shortly after that, relaxing in a way he didn't allow himself when awake.

She tried to sleep herself, listening to her lover's even breathing as she felt her own body start to relax. It hadn't escaped her notice that she had started to sleep better when he was here. Somehow Anders just did that, made her feel at peace and if she really could do half the things Varric's stories said she capable of. She wanted to help him, to protect him. If helping at the clinic even helped a fraction, then she would do it. It was the least she could do for him.


End file.
